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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498436">Of Glitter and Gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elutherya/pseuds/elutherya'>elutherya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Getting Together, Glass Blower Sehyoon, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:09:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elutherya/pseuds/elutherya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s beautiful,” he continues, fingers tracing along the glass. Sehyoon watches him, at a loss now that there’s someone in front of him giving validation to the very thing he had been taught to doubt within himself. The man looks up, eyes glittering in a way that reminds Sehyoon of the life his glass can hold.</p><p>He pulls his hand away from the glass, twisting his wrist and holding the palm of his hand up into the air. Light all too similar to what Sehyoon can blow into glass dances in the palm of the man’s hand, fracturing and breaking apart, but still there, still real.</p><p>“I’m Yuchan.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kang Yuchan | Chan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Glitter and Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/knaeve/gifts">knaeve</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>To my darling Elle, who constantly reminds me that magic can be found in everything we put our love into.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hot air of the studio had once been enough to knock the breath out of Sehyoon. Now, the heat, the smell of burning coal and the roar of the kilns was something that settled around him comfortingly.</p><p>Gathering a blowpipe, Sehyoon opened the oven, squinting at the sheer amount of light emitted from inside of the furnace. He spun the end of the rod in the molten glass, twisting it up and out to remove a workable slug. Pulling it out, he closed the door to the oven, fast enough to avoid singeing his hair.</p><p>The slug glowed red on the end of the iron and he rolled it across the table, elongating the shape, before he blew through the pipe. He eyed the small bubble that appeared in the molten glass, before moving the pipe and resting it on the metal arm of the gaffer’s bench. With deft hands, he rolled the pipe across the arm, picking up the jack laid off the side to gently smooth out the sides.</p><p>Satisfied with the start of it, he moved back down to the other end of the pipe, blowing through it again. </p><p>
  <i>Exhale, release.</i>
</p><p>Sehyoon pulled away and settled back in beside the arm of the bench, lifting the jack again. Carefully, so carefully, he rolled the pipe along the arm, twisting the glass and indenting the middle of the piece with the jack. It wobbled, sinking to the side, but Sehyoon didn’t let himself pause.</p><p>Lifting the pipe from the bench, he swung it, watching the glass pull and elongate on each swing. <i>One, two, three.</i> He brought the pipe back to his lips, exhaled again and watched the piece grow. </p><p>Satisfied with the size, he lowered it back down to the bench and picked the jack back up.</p><p>He worked them around the neck of the piece, close to the end of the blowpipe and where he wanted the top of the piece to be. Setting the jack off to the side, he braced the blowpipe, slipping off the bench to reach for a punty and going to the oven to gather up another slug.</p><p>This was the part he always hated doing without an assistant, but he’d done this solo enough that he trusted his own hands with the familiar work. He pressed the punty against the bottom of the piece, reaching for the blowpipe and rolling them together until it felt secure. He paused there, eyes on the way he could see the darting swirl of light within the piece. It made him want to keep it sealed, but he knew better than that.</p><p>With a grunt, he reached down to the bucket near the foot of the bench, getting water on the end of another jack and rolling the wet ends against the neck of the piece that he had choked out earlier.</p><p>Tightening his grip on the punty, he used the back of the jack to bang against the blowpipe and the shock of temperature and the shudder of the pipe caused it to snap. With a sigh, he watched the light within the piece fade, much like it always did. Dropping the jacks onto the table, he lifted the punty and brought it back to the oven, sticking the piece in neck first.</p><p>His chest ached, a loss he couldn’t explain and one he had no intention of trying to put into words.</p><p>One of those idiosyncrasies that had left him at odds with most of the town. The glass blower who made far too many blown pieces with no use, bubbles blow and forever sealed. The whispers that had started when he’d said they glowed, how could he not want to keep them that way. A light that no one but him could see.</p><p>Pulling the piece back out of the oven, Sehyoon moved back to the bench, carefully pushing the blowpipe out of the way and picking the jack up once again. He set them within the neck of the piece, rolling the pipe and pulling the opening of the piece wider with the ends of the jack.</p><p>The arch of the neck was delicate, the rounded base oval and swooping.</p><p>It was a pretty piece, if simple. That’s what sold though, pieces that people could gift and put to use. A vase, glasses, bowls and bottles.</p><p>The familiarity of working made it easy to grab his tools and indent the glass and bring some kind of interest to the piece. It lacked the life he wanted it to have, the life he was so familiar with, the life that only he could see. He clenched his teeth, not letting the frustration of how what he saw was not something he could show others. They couldn’t see what he saw and so they gravitated to these lifeless pieces instead.</p><p>With a sigh, he worked to remove the piece from the punty and move it into the annealer where it could rest for two days, before he could pull it out and bring it out to the shopfront.</p><p>The repetition, the complacency of it all…</p><p>Sehyoon dragged a hand down his face, wiping the sweat away and reached for the water he had left on the table earlier. When he picked it up, it was empty, and he ran his tongue over his cracking lips. </p><p>An ache that felt a lot like loss, it wasn’t a feeling that only settled over him when he broke those perfect sealed bubbles on a piece.</p><p>With a sigh, he collected his tools, putting them away and cleaning up the space.</p><p>Around him, the kilns roared and the smell of burning coal laid thick, something comforting and familiar. Years and years, he’d spent his time in this space, well worn and well loved.</p><p>The growing ache made him wonder how long he had before even that feeling was taken away.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>When Sehyoon steps into the storefront, Youngjo is already waiting behind the counter. The shop isn’t set to be open for another thirty minutes and Youngjo isn’t even meant to be in today, but Sehyoon’s never been able to stop him from doing what he wants. There’s two cups of coffee waiting on the counter and as soon as Sehyoon eyes them, Youngjo picks up one and pushes the other across the counter.</p><p>“Good morning,” Youngjo says over the lip of the mug, hiding a smile that Sehyoon can hear clear in his voice.</p><p>“You’re supposed to be off today,” Sehyoon returns with a sigh, sitting down at the stool near the counter and reaching for the other mug. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a drink and can’t help the soft smile that slips onto his face at the fact that it was just the way he liked his coffee.</p><p>“I sold nine pieces yesterday, I wanted to pull the new pieces to put on display and let you know which ones sold.”</p><p>Sehyoon’s attention perks up at that and he can’t help the way he looks around the shop to see if he can’t spot the pieces that sold. He glances behind him, back towards the front of the shop, but the vases and cups at the window are nothing memorable to him and he can’t remember which of them had been set out weeks ago and which ones had been kept in the shop to sell later.</p><p>“Not those pieces,” Youngjo laughs and Sehyoon twists back around in his seat, eyes immediately falling to the shelves behind him.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Youngjo sets down his mug, his smile wide and bright.</p><p>Where Sehyoon can’t remember the pieces at the front, he knows the pieces that have lined the shelves behind Youngjo intimately. Nine pieces gone, replaced by the five Sehyoon had kept in storage because he couldn’t bring himself to break their bubbles. The ones he had allowed to keep those few shining pieces, despite knowing they wouldn’t sell.</p><p>Along the shelves, the pieces catch the morning light shining through the window, light dancing within them. They shine like glass jars filled with fireflies and something in Sehyoon’s chest tightens at seeing so many of those pieces had been bought when they’d been sitting so neatly along the shelf for years.</p><p>“That was all of them,” his voice sounds faint to his own ears, but Youngjo still hears him. </p><p>“Yeah, he took one look at them and told me to pack them all up. He asked me if I was the artist,” Youngjo looks over his shoulder, up at the new pieces he had put on display. “He was disappointed when I said I wasn’t, but he promised to come in today when I said you would be working.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Sehyoon hums as he takes another drink of his coffee. It makes sense why Youngjo was in now, but that didn’t explain why someone had purchased those pieces in particular. “A traveller?”</p><p>“He wasn’t someone from town,” Youngjo confirms and Sehyoon drags his eyes back down from the shelf, something like curiosity welling up in his chest. “It was a lot of pieces and he said he couldn’t travel with them, that he’d have someone send to pick them up. He came from the capital.”</p><p><i>The capital,</i> it brings more questions than answers. Why someone from the capital would take an interest in a town so far out of the way and would take the time to purchase and send for pieces…</p><p>“He said he would be coming in again?”</p><p>Youngjo nods and Sehyoon looks back up at the shelf, watching the way the pieces flicker like he’d managed to blow fire into their very cores. The pieces that screamed with life, but no one besides him had ever taken an interest in.</p><p>He nursed his mug between his hands and wondered just what kind of traveller had found enough interest in them to buy them. His heart thundered in his chest at the thought that maybe someone else could see what he saw.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>It’s midday when the front door finally chimes and pulls Sehyoon’s attention away from the book in his hands.</p><p>What surprises him about hearing the chime isn’t that it’s already this late in the day when his first customer steps into the shop, it’s that he’s gotten one at all. He’s long since learned that anyone in town will stop by only if Youngjo is the one sitting at the counter and will walk on past if Sehyoon’s taken one of the few days to man the shop.</p><p>It’s not often, just those days when the annealing ovens are full and he has no place to cool any more pieces.</p><p>He’s long since learned to enjoy the quiet days alone, the visit of a traveller rare enough that he can’t remember the last time he actually helped someone. </p><p>The man in the doorway is exactly that, a traveller. Sehyoon doesn’t recognize him and in a town this small, a new face is easy to spot. His white tunic is out of place, gold thread stitched into the fabric that catches the light coming in from the window in a way that seems unreal. A set of gold bangles dangle around his wrist, chiming gently as he steps into the shop, eyes wide with wonder as they immediately fall to the shelf behind Sehyoon’s head.</p><p>“Hello,” Sehyoon greets and the man’s attention drops, his lips falling open on something soundless.</p><p>“Hello,” he returns and quickly walks over to the front counter, his boots near silent against the hardwood floors. His gaze flicks up and Sehyoon feels himself shiver as the man’s attention falls once again to the shelf behind him. The shelf most people ignore. “I was in yesterday and purchased a few glass pieces, the man I was talking to yesterday said the artist might be in today. Is that you?”</p><p>Sehyoon clears his throat, setting his book down on the counter. “Yes, that’s me.”</p><p>“They’re beautiful, may I see one?” He points up to the shelf and Sehyoon gives a tentative nod as he gets up off his stool. Carefully he reaches up, pulls one of the five pieces down and feels the warmth of the glass under his hand. So unlike how most glass goes cold.</p><p>He turns back, setting it on the counter and watching as the man leans in, breath rushing out of him on a noise of awe. “They’re incredible.”</p><p>His eyes flick up to Sehyoon and Sehyoon watches as the man reaches out a hand and presses two of his fingers to the shell of the piece. At his touch, the light within the piece grows and Sehyoon can’t help the gasp that leaves him, going still on something like shock. The light gathers at the point where the man’s fingers sit, glowing warm, bright and <i>alive</i>.</p><p>“You can see it,” the man grins and Sehyoon can do nothing but give a shaky nod. “Did you know that the ability to see it is rare? I’ve only met a handful of people who can. I didn’t expect to find a glass blower who had the touch when I came into the shop yesterday, I only meant to find a gift to take back home with me.”</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” he continues, fingers tracing alongside the glass. Sehyoon watches him, at a loss now that there’s someone in front of him giving validation to the very thing he had been taught to doubt within himself. The man looks up, eyes glittering in a way that reminds Sehyoon of the life his glass can hold.</p><p>He pulls his hand away from the glass, twisting his wrist and holding the palm of his hand up into the air. Light all too similar to what Sehyoon can blow into glass dances in the palm of the man’s hand, fracturing and breaking apart, but still there, still real.</p><p>“I’m Yuchan.”</p><p>“Sehyoon,” he hears himself say, still too stunned to do much other than helplessly give the man his own name.</p><p>“It’s nice to meet you Sehyoon,” Yuchan laughs and Sehyoon shivers at the way the light in the glass trembles along with it. “How would you like to visit the capital with me and meet the others like us?”</p><p>It’s a terrifying offer, filled with so much of the unknown, but still, Sehyoon finds himself giving a tentative nod of his head.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>The sketch pad feels heavy in Sehyoon’s hand, the pencil weighted in a way that is unfamiliar. Normally it’s chalk in his hand as he kneels on the floor of his studio, sketching ideas right onto the floor. Ideas easily swept away once he’s set them into glass.</p><p>The crackle of the fire is nothing like the sound of the ovens at home, the ground cold and hard where he’s sat. Even the heat feels like a frail attempt at familiarity and it leaves an uneasy ache in his chest. It makes him want to collect his things and start the trek back to the safety of his studio. </p><p>Yuchan lowers himself down beside Sehyoon, warm where he leans close into Sehyoon’s space. Not close enough to touch, but still close enough that his presence burns against Sehyoon’s side. He looks at the sketchbook in Sehyoon’s lap and despite the eyes on his sketch, he doesn’t feel the need to hide it away.</p><p>He reaches out, fingers hovering over the page and tracing the lines of the sketch through the air with them.</p><p>Sehyoon watches him, eyes lifting up to Yuchan’s face and watching the way the firelight flickers across his cheeks and catches in his eyes. So similar to those sparks of light Sehyoon blows into glass and has desperately hoped someone else could see, that Yuchan <i>could</i>.</p><p>“Why a vase?”</p><p>The question startles Sehyoon and he drops his gaze back to the sketchpad, looking at the vase he had thrown down onto paper without much thought. “It’s what people like.”</p><p>“It’s not what you want to make though,” Yuchan says simply.</p><p>It’s startling that someone who’s only known him for a day has so easily seen through him, startling enough that Sehyoon doesn’t resist when Yuchan’s hand curves around the back of Sehyoon’s. His fingers are gentle as he tugs his hand back up to the page, leading the pencil up to the top of the page.</p><p>The ghost of his fingers don’t push, but Sehyoon still drags the pencil across the sketch thoughtlessly. The gentlest of nudges and he’s watching the graphite smooth over the paper, closing what had once been the opening of the vase. He doesn’t stop there though, continues to drag the pencil over the curves of the vase, adding details that highlight the enclosed center.</p><p>He doesn’t notice when Yuchan’s hand falls away, only realizes he’d gotten lost in his sketch when it’s as close to finished as he wants it and finally looks up from the paper.</p><p>Yuchan is watching him with a smile on his face, his knees tucked up to his chest, his arms folded over them and chin resting on the curve of his arms. He looks up from the sketchbook when Sehyoon stops, his smile growing as he meets Sehyoon’s gaze.</p><p>There’s an unspoken <i>make what you want</i> in everything Yuchan has just done and it makes Sehyoon’s chest go tight. It leaves the idea of turning around and going back home a far away thought.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>The capital, when they arrive, is daunting.</p><p>Sehyoon sucks in a sharp breath, bringing his horse to a halt when they breach a hill and see it for the first time. It’s the sprawl of houses and the towers rising in the midst of them. It’s nothing like the town Sehyoon was raised in, small and peaceful.</p><p>Beside him, Yuchan also pulls to a stop, silently waiting for Sehyoon to gather himself. The days of travel had not prepared him, despite the way Yuchan had described the capital, the bustle of it. Even from this distance, Sehyoon can see the markets on the outer edge of the town, filled with people moving about.</p><p>A hand gently brushes against his and Sehyoon glances to Yuchan. “We can go in from the side, so we can avoid the crowds.”</p><p>Sehyoon nods, grateful for Yuchan’s understanding of a panic Sehyoon hadn’t known how to voice.</p><p>Yuchan clicks his tongue and his horse trots down the well worn path and Sehyoon follows, unable to take his eyes off of the town. He’s wide eyed wonder as they get closer, his hands sweating against the reigns as his horse follows after Yuchan without Sehyoon’s guidance.</p><p>“Yuchan’s back!”</p><p>The shout startles Sehyoon as a young boy bursts out of an alley and races towards them. There’s holes in the knees of his breeches and dirt on his face, but Yuchan still reaches down to haul the boy up onto the horse in front of him with a firm grip.</p><p>“Did you keep everything in order while I was gone?”</p><p>“Yeah! Byeongkwan left yesterday and Donghun’s spent the last week in the library,” the boy nods enthusiastically. He tilts himself, leaning around Yuchan to look back at Sehyoon. “Who’s he?”</p><p>“That’s Sehyoon, Chun. I’m taking him to meet Junhee and Donghun. He might be staying with us for a while,” Yuchan murmurs and the words are more than Sehyoon expects. There’s still a mystery around just what Yuchan wants from him, where they’re going within the city. Just who the names they had both mentioned are.</p><p>“Are you magic too?” Chun asks and his excitement is palpable.</p><p>“Magic?” Sehyoon asks and Yuchan shakes his head, leaning down into Chun’s ear.</p><p>“He is, but I don’t think he knows that yet.”</p><p>Chun nods his head, determination in the look he gives Sehyoon. “Welcome home, Mr. Sehyoon.”</p><p>Yuchan laughs and Sehyoon lets himself fall quiet, unsure of how he’s meant to respond.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>Stabling the horses doesn’t take long, not when Yuchan passes them off to the stablehand with a bright thank you. Chun races off as soon as Yuchan lowers him back to the ground, racing off and disappearing around the corner of a wall. The shadows of the towers throw themselves over the courtyard and Sehyoon looks up nervously as he gathers his bag and the carefully wrapped parcel of one of his pieces.</p><p>The rest of the pieces set to arrive at a later date.</p><p>“Chun’s probably found Donghun and Junhee, so we won’t have to go into the court to find them. Follow me,” Yuchan takes Sehyoon’s hand, gently tugging him in the direction Chun had run off in.</p><p>He leads him down towards a door, humming softly as he takes Sehyoon into a place he does not feel like he belongs. </p><p>It’s something that had become apparent as Yuchan had guided him through the streets of the capital, how out of place it felt from the rural area of his home. How terrifying it felt and how he was once again starting to wonder if he had made the right choice.</p><p>Each step feels heavy, but Yuchan waits for him when he falters and soon, he finds them in a room lined with windows. Light shines into the space, falling across a table in the middle that Yuchan carefully takes the box from Sehyoon’s hand and unwraps it on.</p><p>The glass piece catches the light, brighter under Yuchan’s hands than it had ever been in Sehyoon’s.</p><p>A knock, and the door they had entered through opens and two men are quick to join them.</p><p>“You’re back,” one of them breathes and sweeps forward to collect Yuchan into his arms. Yuchan giggles, arms winding around the other man’s waist and hugging him close. He moves them away from the table, away from the threat of knocking the glass from the table by a stray movement.</p><p>“Hi Junhee, I brought someone with me.”</p><p>The man holding Yuchan finally glances over his shoulder and grins in Sehyoon’s direction. “You must be Sehyoon.”</p><p>“He’s Junhee and I’m Donghun,” the other man finally greets, shaking his head at the other pair. “Sorry about them, they’ve both been traveling at different times and haven’t seen each other in a month.”</p><p>“Too long!” Junhee shouts, rocking Yuchan back and forth in his arms. Yuchan’s hands twist into the back of Junhee’s tunic, an unwillingness to let go of him quite yet and Sehyoon can’t help but smile at the display.</p><p>“Chun said you were magic,” Donghun offers and Yuchan gives a shout of confirmation before Sehyoon can deny it, still unsure what exactly it all means.</p><p>“He’s a glass blower,” Yuchan slips out of Junhee’s arms, grabbing for the piece on the table and holding it out for Donghun to take.</p><p>“Fire,” Donghun breathes as he picks the glass piece up in his hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful.”</p><p>Sehyoon flushes at the compliment, at the way Donghun looks up from the piece and to him, like he’s something just as beautiful as the piece in his hands. Donghun moves back to his spot beside Sehyoon, fingers tracing over arches in the glass piece. The sparks within follow after the movement of his fingers, much like they had Yuchan’s, despite the way they don’t glow brighter.</p><p>“Can I ask why I’m here?” Sehyoon finally brings himself to ask, needing some kind of answers. </p><p>“We’re the courts magicians,” Yuchan laughs, obviously amused at the title. It doesn’t answer Sehyoon’s question, but he doesn’t still and Sehyoon trusts that the answers he wants are about to come. Yuchan holds out his hand and Junhee takes it quickly, their fingers twining together with familiarity. Where their hands meet, light sparks and their robes dance around them in a sudden wind that Sehyoon can’t explain. </p><p>Beside him, Donghun shakes his head with a sigh. “They can’t show off the way they like to, not without causing too much damage. Junhee’s connected to the earth, destruction and growth. You should see them when they’re dancing in a field together.”</p><p>“I’m a healer,” Donghun continues, as if the wind isn’t whipping around them in a sealed room. “I would show you, but I’d rather not cause an injury just to prove it. They should be enough. Byeongkwan’s connection is to storms. He’s just left, but his trip wasn’t meant to be a long one.”</p><p>“He brought you here so you could find a place to see just what you’re capable of, it’s why the rest of us are here too.” It’s easy to listen to Donghun, his voice soothing and calm, watching the way Yuchan and Junhee step in close to each other as static sparks across their skin, fondness clear on his face. “He brought us all here and we’ve all learned we were never meant to be alone.”</p><p>“What—” Sehyoon stumbles over the question he wants to ask, flinching when Yuchan looks towards him, but doesn’t make a move to interrupt. Donghun finally looks away from the pair and Sehyoon meets his gaze. “What’s his connection?”</p><p>“Yuchan’s? He’s light.”</p><p>From everything that Sehyoon has seen, the small displays that Yuchan has shared with him, Donghun’s words ring true.</p><p><i>Light</i>, he’s still unsure of all of this, but the promise of not being alone, of being around others who are touched by… whatever has been a part of Sehyoon’s life since he could breathe, it’s one he wants to accept.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>Sehyoon traces his fingers over the kiln in front of him, cold to the touch from disuse. There’s coal off to the side and his fingers itch to throw it in the oven, to bring the workshop to life with the roar of fire and heat.</p><p>“Our towns glassmaker moved to live near the sea,” Yuchan explains as he watches Sehyoon trail through the space, picking up tools and checking them over. There’s nothing he can see that’s missing, the space built and filled entirely by someone who had obviously worked with glass for years.</p><p>“You’re free to make this space your own and ask for anything you might need. We’ll find an assistant, someone willing to learn, to help you.” Yuchan continues, finding a seat on one of the stools in the room. The bangles around his wrists chime as he jumps up onto his perch and Sehyoon can’t help the way his attention draws to him, despite the joys of seeing a new workspace.</p><p>“The others,” Sehyoon doesn’t need to guess that Yuchan means the court of people Sehyoon had been introduced to. “When you’re ready, they’ll be happy to give you their time to experiment with their magic. We’re all stronger when we’re working together, blending what we can do and I think you might be too. I’m happy to give you my time as well.”</p><p>“This is too much,” Sehyoon starts, an honest beginning of a refusal. He understands that he has a gift that they want to explore, but the space they’re offering, the time, it’s more than he can accept. </p><p>“It’s not,” Yuchan shakes his head and holds out a hand, palm up. His eyes never waver, his hand doesn’t shake, and Sehyoon finds himself stepping forward to take it.</p><p>Yuchan’s fingers close around his, his hand warm and grounding. Carefully he lifts his other hand, turning Sehyoon’s hand over and tracing his thumbs over the palm of Sehyoon’s hand. His fingers work over the palm of his hand, work up his fingers and smooth over the calluses on his fingertips.</p><p>“What you can do, it’s something you nurtured,” Yuchan says, his hands soft where Sehyoon’s own are rough and well worn. “Magic is born of love and time, not something you can just have. It’s something meant to be cherished and loved. How much of it has been lost to misunderstanding and fear of the unknown? Why would we not want to give you everything you could ever need to make sure that it doesn’t get lost?”</p><p>Yuchan looks up from Sehyoon’s hand, eyes shining as he smiles, something wobbly and just a little unsure. “None of this is too much.”</p><p>He’s a wonder and Sehyoon swallows around the lump forming in his throat, his fingers closing around Yuchan’s.</p><p>All of it is new and terrifying, an understanding he never thought he would have. Yet here Yuchan is, looking at him like he’s something wonderful, like one of those glass pieces Sehyoon has turned into something extraordinary.</p><p>“You can kiss me, if you’d like,” Yuchan offers and Sehyoon finds that he very much wants to. </p><p>Yuchan tilts his head up and Sehyoon is helpless to do anything but fall into his orbit.</p>
<hr class="hr"/><p>The smell of burning coals filled the air, the heat in the room enough to make sweat bead at Sehyoon’s hairline and the roar of the kilns enough to drown out the bustle of the town outside. He twists the blowpipe up and into the furnace, gathering a workable slug, before pulling it free.</p><p>He closes the door, moving the slug over to the metal table and rolling it against the surface. It’s muscle memory to shape the slug, before pulling it back up and moving the blowpipe over to the gaffer’s bench.</p><p>Beside the bench, Yuchan smiles from where he’s sat on a stool, tilting himself forward when Sehyoon gets in close. He’s so careful to stay out of the way, but close enough that Sehyoon never forgets he’s there, doesn’t want to forget he is. The noise of Sehyoon’s new assistant Geonhak preparing a punty is easily forgotten as Sehyoon moves into Yuchan’s space.</p><p>Yuchan tilts his chin up, laughing bright and loud when Sehyoon leans down to kiss him, breathing him in.</p><p>There’s no time to linger against his lips as much as Sehyoon wants to and all too quickly he pulls himself away to bring the blowpipe to his lips.</p><p>
  <i>Exhale, release.</i>
</p><p>Sehyoon breathes out and watches as life sparks in the bubble of glass at the other end of the pipe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to come talk to me about these boys, possible prompts or anything at all: you can find me over at <a href="https://twitter.com/Elesteria">twitter</a>. I'm always down to chat at new people! You can also find me at <a href="https://t.co/1yfgiUBE0r">curiouscat</a> if you have any thoughts, prompts or stuff that you're too nervous to say in public.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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